La Cita Médica Para 2027 — España Tiene Otros Planes (Y Tu Español También)

Today something happened to me. And I thought: Spain is a shitty country. Then… se me pasó. But let me tell you the story.

I forget appointments. Dates. And apparently… entire years of my life.

This morning I had a medical appointment. With a specialist. When I booked it, I thought: “Wow. A specialist without paying $300 like in Australia… I love Spain.” Spoiler: Spain had other plans.

La Escena en el Hospital

I mobilize the army. Call the school. Pick up the kids. Change another appointment. Run to the hospital like Hacienda is chasing me. I arrive. On time. The machine: no. Me: ¿cómo que no? The machine: NO.

I go to the desk. Wait. Wait. Wait. Espera. Espera. Espera. My turn.

— Clerk: “Hola.”
— Me: “Hola. I have an appointment now, but it doesn’t appear in the machine.”
— Clerk: “Tarjeta sanitaria.”
— Me: “Mierda. I forgot it.” (She looks at me like I just confessed a minor crime.)
— Clerk: “DNI.”
She types. Types more.
— Clerk: “You don’t have an appointment today.”
— Me: “Ah. Ok. So I got the day wrong.”
— Clerk: “No.”
— Me: “¿No? Then… what?”
— Clerk: “The year.”

THE YEAR. EL AÑO. The appointment is for 2027. Dos mil veintisiete. Yo hoy, in 2026.

— Me: “Seriously?”
— Clerk: “Yes. Go to that gigantic line over there. Maybe they can change it.”

Another clerk.
— Me: “I have an appointment for 2027. Do you think there’s something earlier?”
— Clerk: “It doesn’t say it’s urgent.”
— Me: “It’s not urgent, but if I wait until 2027, it probably will be.”
— Clerk: “It can’t be changed.”

Official Conclusion

If it’s not urgent, you’re not dying in the next few months. And honestly… that gives hope.

Can you wait for your Spanish? A lot of people wait years to “someday” speak Spanish properly. And when they finally react… they’re still saying “Hola, me llamo…”

I don’t want you three years from now wondering why you still translate everything in your head.

Piénsalo.

Mañana más. Besos y amor, Mónica.

— Monica Bernabe Perez